


Sandy In Time

by WolfRampant



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Armageddon, Heaven won, M/M, Pining, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfRampant/pseuds/WolfRampant
Summary: In times of hardship and despair, an unlikely hero emerges: Sandalphon.(a.k.a snippets of a story where Sandalphon is sent back in time to prevent Armageddon.)
Relationships: Gabriel & Sandalphon (Good Omens), Gabriel/Sandalphon (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Heaven was empty. Heaven had always been more empty than full, but now? Now it was even emptier. For days Sandalphon wandered the empty halls in daze and grief.

Their Mother promised them a victory. The victory was delivered but was it really worth it? Sandalphon feared that in a short time, there will be another Hell, another Fallen. People were angry. He feared he will be the one to fall because he was the one most angry.

Their Mother was all-powerful, all-seeing being. She could have dealt with Hell in her own way, in her own time. She could have destroyed Lucifer, in fact, she could have crushed him at the very beginning. In fact, She should have seen what he would have become and not created him at all. Why let Hell exist at all? Why allow them to interfere on Earth among Her beloved creation? Why let them dictate the Armageddon?

Why? Why? Why? The questions resonated through his mind. He hated it. But no matter how much he tried to silence the unwanted voice wouldn’t stop his litany. Why let angels and demons slug it out on the battlefield? And the most important question of all, why let them die?

Sandalphon wasn’t used to asking questions. He wasn’t used to independent thinking. He always did whatever Gabriel asked him to do, without question, to the best of his ability. He wished to hit someone now. He almost regretted the absence of the demonic Horde. How he would have loved to go smiting. They should have left one or two demons alive, kept them contained, use them to sate their rage. Something they could use to distract themselves from misery.

There was an angel approaching him. He was hunched over, dark circles under his eyes, a dark cloud of despair surrounding him. Sandalphon somehow knew he was carrying a message from God.

“What does She command?” he asked before the currier could open his mouth.

“She summons you to Her Throne.” 

Another case in point. The Almighty could talk to him right here right now She was all-present. Sandalphon could feel the pale tendrils of her presence even now. It was weak. His connection to Her was fading. He was doubting more than he suspected.

“Alright,” Sandalphon said. “I will attend to Her at once.”

“But...like that?”

“Like what?” 

Then he saw his reflection in the grand window. He didn’t exactly keep himself to angelic grooming standards. There was no Gabriel anymore to enforce them. Still, his own image startled him. He stepped closer. He had a beard. It was mostly white with a hint of grey and he looked different. He barely recognized himself. He blinked and his reflection blinked back. He found it strangely appealing. Less Sandalphon, the smiter, more...something else. 

“Yes, like that.” 

He trooped into the throne room in a bad mood. It was empty. All the thrones were dead and there wasn’t anybody to sing praises. The physical Throne itself was also empty but then again only once had Sandalphon the Almighty actually sit in it.

He knelt in front of the Throne anyway, waiting.

“There is little time.” 

There was something wrong about the voice. It was still powerful and booming and left him feeling like he spent too much time standing too close to a giant star. But there was a strange echo, barely audible whisper carried on the heels of the voice. Sandalphon turned in the direction of the voice and recoiled. 

He knew the being before his eyes was the Almighty, but...She was transparent, fading and instinctively he knew that it wasn’t by choice. What could do it for Her? She was all-powerful, unending, nothing should be able to harm her. Unless...He refused to think that.

“Lord? What-”

“Listen!” Almighty came closer putting Her finger under his chin and lifting his face so he could look into her eyes. If She had any. Her face was white and featureless. Something settled inside the mass of flesh he called the corporation and he realized that it was fear.

“You are angry,” the Lord said.

There was no use denying it. “We win. But everybody is dead. What kind of victory is that?”

“It wasn’t meant to happen.”

Sandalphon opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“I miscalculated.”

“What? How?” The Almighty knew all. How could She miscalculate?

“You do not understand my power. I don’t know all. But I can. Whatever I want to know, whatever I want to see, it appears to me. I can see what could have been, what could be what can happen. I can pull at the strands of time, to choose the most desirable variant, influence the events for the wanted outcome.”

“Then if you didn’t choose this, what happened?”

“I chose the line that led to Armageddon not happening at all.”

“But you said…”

“I know.” The Almighty shushed him.

“But Armageddon happened.”

“I know. I fixed too much on my chosen result. I failed to see every eventuality. As I said I miscalculated.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sandaplhon didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want a confirmation that his Mother was indeed fallible.

“You want them back. You would do anything to get them back. You can get them back. You can get Gabriel back.”

“But you said that was impossible!”

After the Rebellion the grieving Host begged God to bring those who were killed back. She refused. One angel was destroyed, utterly and completely, there was no bringing them back. Oh, she could re-create them strand of light by strand of light so they the new angel would be completely identical to the last one, but he would be just a copy. The uniques spark that made angel the angel would be gone.

“Yes, it is,” God agreed.

“Then how are they going to be brought back?”

“By time?”

Sandalphon didn’t understand.

“There is little of it,” if The Almighty had a face maybe she would have smiled. “By my own mistake, I broke the laws I myself set for the Universe. It’s unraveling. You can help me fix it. I am going to use last of my power to -.”

  
  
  


Sandalphon blinked. It was quiet. The Throneroom was gone. He was sitting in the chair. In his office. There was no moment of transition. One moment he was there. Now he was there.

There was paperwork on his desk. He frowned. There wasn’t any paperwork. There weren’t any angels left to generate any paperwork. Who would be willing to generate any paperwork?

Sandalphon picked up the first folder.  _ Readiness report.  _ Copy distributed to all Archangels. Signed by Siphael. The name rang a bell. But he was sure no-one named Siphale was among the living.

Next folder. Census on how many clergymen are currently destined to Hell. Signed by Ohaaphel. Sandalphon didn’t know the name at all. No-one named Ohaphel was among the living.

Next one. The memo from Gabriel about the upcoming team-building event. Sandalphon’s hand shook. Gabriel was dead.

What was happening?

Sandalphon stood up as if somebody controlled his body, still clutching the memo in his hand. It was impossible. Gabriel couldn’t be sending memos. Gabriel was dead. Sandalphon was there. 

Did he wake up in some new strange nightmare? He had to know.

He ran into Gabrieljust out of his office.

“Sandalphon!” Gabriel’s smile was just as wide and enthusiastic as Sandalphon remembered. “I was just coming to see you. I have wonderful news!”

Sandalphon extended one hand towards Gabriel and touched his chest. He was solid. The next moment he had thrown his hands around him and buried his face in his jacket. He felt his aura. The smell of lavender and Ozon, the sound of fluttering wings and te distant echo of thunder. All unique. It really was…

“Gabriel.” cried Sandalphon.

“Sandalphon?”

“Oh, Gabriel.” 

“Um,” 

Sandalphon lifted his head still clutching at Gabriel’s jacket. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Um, It’s good to see you too?” Gabriel replied uncertainly.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He tightened his hands around Gabriel again.

“Sandalphon, this is getting weird.” Gabriel’s voice was higher than usual. Reason returning to him Sandalphon let him go and straightened.

“Right, sorry.”

Noticing the crumpled paper in his hands Gabriel snatched it from him. “Do you have any questions about our weekend at Seychelles?” 

Weekend at Seychelles. Sandalphon remembered that. Ostensibly a team-building weekend for the Archangel it turned into a cheery celebration of the Antichrist being on Earth. They each claimed dibs on Princes of Hell they wanted to smite in the upcoming Armageddon. They all expected it to be glorious and easy, done in an afternoon. They were naive idiots back then.

“Armageddon,” Sandalphon whispered in dread.

Gabriel’s face fell. “You already know? Who told you?”

“There is going to be Armageddon?”

“Yes!” Gabriel agreed excitedly. “That was what I have come to tell you. The Antichrist was delivered to Earth this evening. In eleven years...we got them!” When Gabriel didn’t get any reaction from Sandalphon he wilted. “Anyway, since you already know, I’ll go inform Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale. The traitor. Last time Sandalphon heard the name Aziraphale, Heaven’s erstwhile field agent was apprehended by one of the celestial patrols at the edge of the Solar System, fleeing towards Alpha Centauri in the company of the demon Crowley. Aziraphale was, after a short trial in front of a military tribunal that in all honesty couldn’t really even be called a hearing, found guilty of desertion, collusion with the enemy and treason and was summarily executed. To the last moment of his existence, he kept begging for the life of Crowley. He didn’t know that the demon had been unceremoniously dissolved in the Holy Water shortly after capture. Sandalphon remembered it because it was him who swung the sword. Will swing the sword.

“Nevermind Aziraphale,” growled Sandalphon.

Gabriel gave him an uncertain smile. “I am sorry?”

“We can’t let Armageddon happen,”

The smile disappeared. “What? What do you mean Armageddon can’t happen?”

“Gabriel,” Sandalphon said urgently. “I think I have just traveled back in time.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sandalphon laughed when Gabriel had him locked up. He couldn’t help himself. Here he was, eleven and some years in the past, all his loved ones back alive and they thought he had either gone mad or he was an impostor. 

Because the real Sandalphon would welcome Armageddon. He had to curse his past self because it was undeniably true. If he hadn’t lived it he wouldn’t believe himself either.

He was locked in the cell built to hold demons eventually captured during the apocalypse. No demons had ever been kept here, yet Sandalphon would swear that he heard the tortured screams even now. In the latter days of the Apocalypse Michael spent a lot of time here as she desperately tried to locate Lucifer. After every time she left here her eyes were less bright, her face more still that she eventually resembled a walking corpse rather than a most powerful archangel.

Left alone in the absolute darkness - there was no light with the reasoning that Heavenly light would be wasted on the creatures of Hell - and he couldn’t help but reminiscence.

Heaven wasn’t ready for war. The only thing that saved them was the fact that Hell wasn’t either. 

They were all veterans of the Great War, they thought they all knew what they were doing.

But there was a thing about the first war ever to be fought. It was brutal. It was a full shock to the system. There was no concept of war before, no concept of violence. It wouldn’ have even occurred to hit someone over a disagreement (until someone did). There was no disagreement in the first place (until there was). They hadn’t even got weapons. 

When the fighting started they fought with their fists. And teeth and nail and their very bodies. They tore each other apart limb by limbs and Sandalphon saw some terrifying sights back then, ones even humans with their tendency to invent the most gruesome cruelties didn’t manage to replicate. Those loyal to Heaven were faster to obtain proper weapons with the help of the Almighty, and the disunited rebels with their improvised weapons and bodies disfigured with claws or fangs in an effort to compensate for Heaven’s advantage were swept down. They were made to keep their disgusting body modification by the Almighty as punishment.

But that was the legacy of the war. Heaven was fractured, their lives irreparably changed, Hell created. And angels very much tried to forget its horror. So much that they convinced that the next war would be different, walk in the park.

Now they were all armored, equipped with flaming swords, and spears and bows and arrows. They were all trained, from the most skilled cherub to the last clerk, all required to keep their skills sharp.

The next war would be civilized. In the next war, they would massacre ill-equipped ill-disciplined forced of Hell in one big sweep. It would be a laugh.

Except it wasn’t a laugh. They lost Uriel in the very first battle. Her rear guard, filled with some of the finest soldiers of the host, was literally buried under the mass of demons. They fought valiantly each of them easily felling ten demons but the horde rushed them not caring for their own losses. Other legions rushed to their aid but afterward, the pile of ashes from the destroyed corporation was two-man high.

While this was going on Gabriel got almost killed. He and his units were supposed to fly high over the battlefield, hurl lightning, rain down holy water, and seek out targets of opportunity. Hell was prepared for them, launching thousands of projectiles of exploding hellfire that covered the sky so densely it was impossible to avoid them. They were accompanied by swarms of vicious furies. Eventually, they were cornered and if Michael didn’t fight through the Horde to deal with demons who were launching the hellfire, they would be destroyed. But she lost more fine warriors and her eye along the way. It turned out to be for naught in the end.

A few days later Gabriel stupidly walked into the infernal trap and got jabbed with liquified hellfire which slowly consumed him from the inside. His death wasn’t quick or peaceful. Poor Gabriel, even facing his own end, he still believed that Heaven would gain glorious victory followed by magnificent and eternal peace.

Having lost the better half of the archangels, the war turned even more savage and merciless. Lucifer avoided confronting Michael on the battlefield. She, in turn, became obsessed with hunting him down and killing him, at the cost of leading the Heavenly Host. 

More angels were lost and their faces started to blur in his memory. One day Sandalphon looked up and he realized that he could no longer remember details of Gabriel’s face. It was no comfort that more demons died then angels, each day more and more friends and colleagues left forever.

Michael got her wish in the end. It was almost symbolic, the way the greatest adversaries skewered each other and plummeted into the depths as one. But by that point, Sandalphon was too tired and nub to properly appreciate it.

A few of the angels still standing finished off the remaining demons that of it. The war was over. War was won. Sandalphon fell on his knees and prayed for it to be just a nightmare. For it to be undone.

Back in the cell, Sandalphon found out he was kneeling to and tears poured down his face. His prayer had been answered. And he was locked in the cell unable to do anything. 


	3. Chapter 3

Sandalphon wasn’t sure how long he was locked up, only that by the time his cell door finally opened he was starting to fear that they forgot about him.

Sandalphon shielded his eyes from the sudden light and when he blinked the bright spots away he saw Michael in front of him. Gabriel trailed behind her reluctantly, looking unhappy. Whatever had occurred between them Michael had ignored him. She snapped her fingers and three chairs appeared, one on Sandalphon’s side of the now brightly illuminated cell, two on Michael’s side.

“Let’s sit down, shall we?” Michael said.

Sandalphon didn’t wait. Sitting on the hard cold floor for several hours wasn’t very comfortable. The chair Michael had created was utilitarian but at least made for the shape of a body. Michael sat opposite him grimly and glared at Gabriel who still loitered by the door. Under Michael’s stare, he flopped on the remaining chair with a sigh. Sandalphon smiled fondly. Gabriel could be so childish sometimes. 

Sandalphon had high hopes for Michael’s appearance. Unlike Gabriel, Sandalphon knew she would hear him out. Michael was information oriented. She would want to know everything Sandalphon had to say before coming to any conclusion. Sandalphon had to be very convincing then. He wouldn’t be able to avert the Armageddon from inside of the cell.

Technically Gabriel had no right to imprison him. Sandalphon was the same rank! But he had a feeling that struggling against him would only convince Gabriel further. 

“Sandalphon,” Michael started, “why did you freak out Gabriel?”

“I didn’t freak out,” Gabriel protested.

Michael gave him a searching look and smirked. She turned to Sandalphon. “He totally freaked out.”

“My apologies, Gabriel. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Gabriel crossed his arms on his chest. “Then why did you speak that nonsense. That Armageddon can’t happen? Was that some kind prank? Because I didn’t find it funny.”

“I promise that it wasn’t a prank. And everything I told you was the truth. I traveled back in time and the Armageddon can’t happen.”

Gabriel turned to Michael, outraged. “I told you, he isn’t acting like Sandalphon. They had to suborn him somehow. We should be already finding out how they did it, not sit here and have a friendly chat.” By the end of the tirade, Sandalphon could already smell ozone in the air. Gabriel must be even more upset than Sandalphon suspected. 

“Gabriel,” Michael’s tone suggested that the other archangel was trying her patience. “Stop for a minute and feel Sandalphon’s aura. Does it feel any different to you?”

Gabriel closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in concentration. He huffed.

“No, it’s the same it always had been,” he admitted reluctantly. “But that means nothing. Michael, what if Hell found a way to take over one of our own.” Gabriel tried to lower his voice with the last part but Sandalphon was still near enough to hear him clearly. Gabriel didn’t have an indoor voice - he was one to be heard.

Sandalphon couldn’t remain passive observer any longer.

“Gabriel, has it occurred to you that I am might be telling the truth?”

“But that’s preposterous,” Gabriel swang his head from Michael to Sandalphon and back as if he wasn’t sure to whom he wanted to appeal. “Time travel?” he scoffed. “That never happened before. Time is linear, it has been since it was created.”

Michael contemplated Sandalphon. “I would be very interested to know how this time travel happened.”

“It was by the power of the Almighty,” Sandalphon explained. 

“Why would She send you back? We won the War, didn’t we?” Sandalphon had to smile bitterly at Gabriel’s confidence. The idea that Heaven could lose had never even entered his mind. 

“Yes,” Sandalphon said grimly. “We have won. It wasn’t worth it.”

“How can you say that it wasn’t worth it?” said Gabriel, forgetting that he didn’t believe in the whole time travel claim in the first place.

“Almost the whole Heavenly host was destroyed. You died, Gabriel. Michael dies. Uriel died.”

Gabriel winced. “Well, if I am going to die for Heaven it’s worth it.” He tried to sound confident but his winning smile was even more fake and constrained than usual. 

“No, it wasn’t worth it. Even Mother thought so. Armageddon destroyed everything, even Her.”

“See,” Gabriel pulled at Michael’s jacket frantically, much to her annoyance. “He is lying. Mother could never be destroyed. He is some kind of a plant, send here to undermine our preparation for the End of the World.” His voice has an undertone to desperation in it. He didn’t want to believe Sandalphon. So he created a theory and latched on any information that supported it. It was typical Gabriel. Once he had decided on something it was extremely difficult to change his mind. And now that Sandalphon was on the wrong side of Gabriel’s judgment, it was also very annoying. He hoped that Michael will at least give him benefit of the doubt. If someone could convince Gabriel to reconsider, it was her.

“I know it sounds insane,” Sandalphon admitted. “I wouldn’t believe it either if I didn’t see it. But it’s true. Everything fell apart,”

“You made the future sound very bad,” Michael commented.

“If it wasn’t bad, the time travel wouldn’t be necessary.” 

“I suppose not,” Michael agreed.

Gabriel eyed her suspiciously. “Michael, please tell me you don’t believe any of this nonsense.”

Michael shook her head. “Gabriel, how long have you known Sandalphon?”

Gabriel frowned in confusion. “Since the beginning. But what does it have to do with this?”

“And how many times had he come and started spouting madness?”

“Never! That’s why this is absurd. Sandalphon would never come talking some nonsense about time travel and Armageddon going wrong. That’s why it isn’t him. Or he is possessed somehow. And I know what you are going to say. There’s no demonic aura on him but that’s no proof. They could find a way to conceal it and I am seriously concerned that you aren’t worried about this option.”

“Unless it was the truth,” Michael said calmly.

“What?” Gabriel wasn’t sure which part of his spiel was Michael answering.

Michael explained patiently. “Maybe the reason Sandalphon suddenly says things that sound preposterous to you is because they are true.”

Opposite the two Archangels Sandalphon was nodding vigorously. 

“But Michael…” Gabriel pleaded.

“Don’t you see, Gabriel? If Sandalphon is from the future he already lived through the war. He knows what we did wrong. He knows strategy and tactics Hell employed. This could be the biggest intelligence coup in the creation. It would give an immense advantage in the war to come. Isn’t it right, Sandalphon?” 

Sandalphon nodded slowly. Inside him, his very being pulsed and contracted with apprehension. He didn’t like the gleam in Michael’s eyes.

“So you see,” Michael addressed Gabriel. “Sandalphon can tell us what happened in the war and we can avoid it. With his information, we can win much more easily. And none of us has to die.” 

Sandalphon swallowed. It was a curiously human reaction. 

What Micheal was saying sounded tempting. It would be so easy. They could massacre the Hellish Hordes in the very first battle. Everybody would get what they wanted. Hell would be destroyed. Deep inside Sandalphon still wanted to see Hell crushed. The demons who always ruined everything had no right to exist any longer.

But they were equally confident of quick victory the first time around. Michael couldn’t guarantee that the demons won’t do anything unpredictable. She couldn’t guarantee that Gabriel wouldn’t die nonetheless. He seemed to attract fire.

“This isn’t what the Almighty asked me to do. She said,” Sandalphon paused. He himself still struggled to comprehend what the Almighty told him mere hours ago. “She said she planned for the Armageddon not to happen at all.”

Michael narrowed her eyes. “I am sure that you just misunderstood.”

Did he? The Almighty hadn’t got time to explain Her plans to him in detail. “She said the Armageddon wasn’t meant to happen.”

Gabriel shook his head in denial. “If God didn’t want Armageddon why would She tell us it would happen? To prepare for it? And if She changed her plans...She would just tell us. We are her Archangels.”

“Would She?” Sandalphon couldn’t but remember how little God was involved in Heaven’s affairs in the years before the Armageddon.

“What exactly did she tell you?” Michael asked.

“Not much. There wasn’t much time. She was unraveling fast. Only that Armageddon wasn’t supposed to happen and that I am to fix it. Then I was here.”

Michael straightened. “Sandalphon, I see that you went through harrowing experience. I am sure that you just misunderstood. I am sure that the Almighty wouldn’t want the majority of the Host to be destroyed in the war but She wouldn’t just throw away six thousand years of work. She must have meant that you have to fix it so the Heaven won decisively.”

Oh, that would be nice. Sandalphon had no desire to let Hell continue to exist which would be the price of canceling the Armageddon. He thirsted for their blood for millennia. But not at the cost of Heaven. He would tolerate their extended existence if he could keep Gabriel - and other angels - alive.

“I didn’t believe it either, but I am certain of what the Almighty said. She didn’t...She doesn’t want Armageddon.”

Michael didn’t look pleased. She was the least vocal about it but it was her that wanted the war most of all. If Sandalphon gave her what she wanted and told her how to win the war in three easy steps he would already be released and drilled for all that he could tell her.

But although Michael’s thinking process was different, she was more like Gabriel than it seemed at first glance. She also fixated on one single goal and she didn’t like to deviate. She picked things from his tale that exactly suited her quest to destroy Hell. Sandalphon could see now that Michael believed him - but she wouldn’t help him the way he needed. 

“Just let me go and try to talk to the Almighty. Maybe She will give us guidance.” 

It was his only chance. Maybe the Almighty would just tell Michael and Gabriel to cooperate. Because if not, Sandalphon wasn’t really sure how to stop Armageddon on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I made a big deal out of Michael and Gabriel identifying Sandalphon by his aura. Now I have to invent a reason why the Archangels wouldn't know that it wasn't Aziraphale during the execution...


	4. Chapter 4

The smell was something that Sandalphon would never forget. The combination of burnt oil and rotting flesh and something else he couldn’t identify was so overwhelming that his fragile corporation wanted to gag. The devastated landscape of Earth emanated all sorts of pungent smells these days but this must have taken the top spot. Sandalphon shut down his olfactory senses.

He landed and two accompanying thuds behind him indicated that his companions followed him. The area around him seemed to be devoid of life, ethereal, demonic or human. It used to be a city but it was flattened. Destruction probably happened day or two ago, but only some still glowing remains of concrete was a testament that any settlement was here in the first place. No structure rose above the horizon. Even the building foundations were hard to distinguish. 

Yet his coordinates lead him here. There should be angels here. Angels in need of assistance. And most importantly, Gabriel. He didn’t see anyone. If any fight happened here it wouldn’t be recognized among all the damage. 

Sandalphon took one step forward. Something crunched under his boot. He leaned down and picked the object from under the ashes. He examined it. It was a piece of metal, The whiff of hellfire still clung around it. It was brittle and melted out of shape but Sandalphon still recognized a piece of host’s chest plate. He let the piece drop to the ground and hoisted up his war-hammer. 

“Be alert,” he said to his companions, Carale and Harael, through it was unnecessary. Those that weren’t alert met an early end in this war. They spread out scanning the surrounding area with wary eyes.

Something moved ahead of Sandalphon. Something trashing in the ashes, smelling of more hellfire and blood. Wasting no time he gave his corporation a push of miracle speed and quickly floated over to it. He put his foot in the middle of the keening thing chest and raised his weapon to finish it. It was a truly pitiful creature, wheezing under his boot. It was covered in soot and its skin was cracked like earth during draught. Black blood was streaking out of its dull purple eye.

Sandalphon redirected his swing at the last moment. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel moaned and more ugly cracks spread across his face. Sandalphon threw away his weapon - a stupid move in hindsight as there could be demons still lurking around - and knelt by Gabriel’s side. “Carale! Harael!”

The two angels were by his side in an instant. “Get me some holy water! Harael, go back and bring me a healer.” They didn’t move. They saw a lot of horrors in the last few days but they still looked at Gabriel writhing on the ground in incomprehension. “Now!”

Harael shot out into the sky leaving a blazing trail in his wake. Carale busied zirself with miracling and blessing some water.

“Gabriel, what happened? Where are the others?” Gabriel left with a company of more than fifty angels.

Gabriel grimaced. “Trap.Stupid.” was all he managed to force past his ruined lips. 

Sandalphon turned to Carale. “Where’s that Holy Eater?!” Carale hurriedly handed him the carafe. Sandalphon generously applied to Gabriel’s corporation. Gabriel screamed as black smoke emerged from his cracks. But Holy Water helped only a little. Sandalphon could feel it. Beneath Gabriel’s skin and flesh, on other levels of existence, the Hellfire, the essence of pure hate and sin and cruelty devoured Gabriel’s divine being.

Sandalphon tried to use some of his own essence to drive the hellfire back. It stroke back against his attempt and he recoiled against the feeling that could be best described as being hit by a train that was on fire.

Gabriel cried out in pain again. Flakes of dead skin were peeling off his face now.

“Shh, just wait, Gabriel, Harael will be back soon with help. You are going to be fine.” Sandalphon knew that his attempt at a smile was more a grimace.

Gabriel grabbed his hand. “‘s alright,” his voice was hoarse and wavering. “It’s all...for Heaven. Gladly for Heaven.”

“Don’t speak,” Sandalphon commanded. 

Gabriel shook his head. He gave Sandalphon a pleading look. “Destroy them. Promise you win.” There were ashes in his mouth and he was barely audible.

“We will,” Sandalphon said. “Together.”

But Gabriel wasn’t listening. His hand on Sandalphon’s own disappeared. His face crumbled and dissolved into ashes. He had to scramble back as a last flame of hellfire exploded out and took any last remains of Gabriel with him.

Sandalphon didn’t cry. He never did and he wasn’t about to start now. But coldness settled at the center of his being. The vision and victory and glory grew even further from him. His movement was slow and heavy as he picked his warhammer and turned to Carale. “Let’s go. We have demons to kill. And war to win.”

  
  
  
  


“Archangel Sandalphon, sir?”

Sandalphon blinked the memory out of his eyes. Ever since the event itself, he forced himself not to think of it at all. He didn’t want to remember Gabriel as a pile of ashes. 

“Yes, Saneel?”

“The Metatron will see you know,” said the assistant of the Voice of God.

“Finally,” Sandalphon signed in relief. The Metatron was famous for letting angels wait for an audience and with increasing frequency not agreeing to see them at all. Of course, it wasn’t the Metatron Sandalphon wished to see, but God. But since shouting towards the ceiling hardly ever worked as a method of contacting God, Metatron it was.

Heaven was bare. The place called the Metatron’s office was even barer. In truth, it was only an empty circular chamber. The Metatron stood illuminated in the beam of light in the center. At least he showed all his body, not the oversized projection of his head. Some human mythologies considered the two of them as siblings. Sandalphon was always embarrassed at this interpretation. They were more than strangers. If the Metatron was close to anybody in Heaven, it would come as a surprise to him.

“Did you speak to the Almighty?” Sandalphon asked.

The Metatron inclined his head. “Of course.”

“Will She speak to me?” 

“No.”

“Why not?” a wave of bitterness washed over him. He had long ago accepted that despite his high rank he didn’t rate high in gaining God’s attention, that he wasn’t as valued or appreciated as Gabriel and Michael and even Uriel. He accepted his role and was content. But now, when he was here to undo the terrible future, sent by Her, he thought he could at least merit some acknowledgment.

The Metatron ignored his question. “She games me a message to deliver to you.”

A message? Sandalphon hid his scoff. He probably should be happy to be given at least that.

“I am listening,” he nodded.

“Proceed.”

This time Sandalphon didn’t hide his scowl. “Proceed? That’s all?” Was She mocking him?

The Metatron looked at him with disapproval. “I trust that you understand the meaning of this message.”

“I do.”

But as he left he was filled with doubt. Had he got the Almighty on his side? Proceed with what? Logically it meant that he should proceed with whatever he was going to do. It would be nice to have such blank permission if he knew what he was going to do. 

He stopped to look out of one of the broad windows of an administrative building with an excellent view of human Heaven. He had no plan. How could he? He was thrown to the past with hardly any warning, any instruction. 

And come of think to it, the Almighty clearly knew what happened in the future. At the very least she could read his mind like an open book. It would be easy for her to cancel Armageddon. Just appear in front of Gabriel and tell him. Gabriel would cut off his own wings if commanded. But yet again God was unwilling to step in. Or incapable? He chased that thought away. Questions like this were the fastest way downstairs. 

A nervous cough came from his right.

“How did it go? Did she speak with you?” Gabriel asked eagerly.

Sandalphon shrugged. “The Metatron only gave me a message from her. It said: Proceed.”

“Oh,” Gabriel tried for a sympathetic look. “Proceed with what?”

“Stopping the Armageddon,” he didn’t add I guess. Better to sound confident and in control.

Gabriel’s face fell. One thing to call Sandalphon crazy on his own. Another thing was to resist when the Almighty seemingly agreed with him. “Are you sure that’s necessary?”

Sandalphon put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it either. We prepared to destroy Hell for so long. But I saw the future. If I am to choose between that or letting Hell remain a thorn in our side, I choose Hell.”

“It will be a bother telling Heaven that Armageddon is off,” complained Gabriel.

“I am sure you will manage.”

“Hell won’t be so easy.” there was an undertone of hope in Gabriel’s voice. He believed that Hell won’t give them any other option in the end. “We will obey the command of the Almighty. Hell won’t. And the Antichrist is already on Earth.”

“Then we will have to remove the Antichrist,” said Sandalphon clearly. Beginning of a plan started to form in his mind.

“Huh?” Gabriel didn’t catch up yet.

“Hell needs the Antichrist to still open the barriers between Hell and Earth. No Antichrist, no Armageddon. We need to kill the boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was on my mind for months. Just Sandalphon, being the protagonist of the story for once. I am not sure I will update this. The possibility of this is there. I have several ideas where this could go, but I am not sure I would manage to write an epic story I would like this to be. 
> 
> And I do in fact ship Gabriel/Sandalphon in a non-abusive way. I mean they hold hands during Aziraphale's execution. That is practically a declaration of undying love.
> 
> Edit: you should look at this https://knightofthesevenfandoms.tumblr.com/post/190526607246/some-behind-the-scenes-and-premiere-photos-from -- Paul Chahidi with a beard!


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